sweeping

The waterfalls did not bother the volunteers in Kit's bedroom, who gathered every night from 7 p.m. until 1 a.m. to take bundles of flyers and post them in libraries, WalMart, airports, bus stations, 7-11s, Safeways. Anyplace Anna might have gone if she had somehow come back to Colorado.

They talked about strategy over the white noise of the television. Wondered silently why the channel was turned to an empty station. Thought if that is what it takes to keep your sanity, then go to it. Wondered even more when Kit invariably greeted them with demands for news. Had they heard anything, she wondered? What was on CNN? What would Unsolved Mysteries show this week?

The volunteers shook their heads. They had heard nothing. And kept on working, racking their brains to think of anything else that could be done. For to do nothing, the thought that nothing could be done, was to let the full horror of the possibilities take full sway.

Kit presided over the nightly actions after her work. Sophie kept an eye on things during the day. But there were no leads at all. Kit longed to take down something from the 1-800 line they had set up: a call about seeing Anna with the angel in the People's Park, a prank saying Anna was in Imity, anything. But the lines were forever silent.

Whatever had taken Anna had taken her for good.

the water / falls / in torrents / as if it were the only / force that mattered / sweeping / everything / from its path

the word is / the sound / of water / dripping from/ ancient symbols / tiny particles / of merging / realities

Follow us all: Amy/Anna, Sophie/Yuki, Kit/Richard, minor characters or sift through water leavings and river journeys.